My first grade daughter's class is doing a whole "cultural sharing" unit this month. It's like "ethnic" show-and-tell. Kids bring something from home to share about their culture. My overachieving self made a lantern using the skin of a pomelo for her to bring to class. Old school.
This week, our dinner guest asked my girl "Which culture did you pick to share with your class?" As in: "Did you bring a white folk thing or some mythical Chinese item?" My daughter matter-of-factly said "I didn't pick one. I shared about me. I'm Chinese American."
I just about fell out of my chair from sheer joy. She didn't feeling like she had to pick sides! She understood what it means to be Chinese American, (at a 7 year old level) she really got it. I can tell from the look on her face she was not just repeating my words. She really felt it.
It's not a pass-fail. Her search for identity is not "over." Hapa questions and loyalty feelings will continue to be in our daily lives. But for a moment that night, just a brief moment I heard angels singing hallelujah.
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